April Fools
by Sam.J.Eller
Summary: Some kids at school pull a prank on Sam, but he doesn't find it very funny and neither does Dean. Weechesters/Teenchesters. One-shot. Hurt/Sad/Sam and Protective/Caring/Dean.


Note: A nice little April Fools fic for everyone. Please review/comment and Enjoy! :)

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"Sam, I'm home!" I hollered out as I entered the motel room.

It was strange having to announce my presence. Normally I arrived before my kid brother, or we made it back at the same time, but for some reason in this town Sam's school let out before mine.

I wasn't impressed with my little brother walking back to the room alone, he was only ten years old for godsake, but at least it was a short walk. Hell the motel was only a block away from his school, but it still made me uncomfortable.

Not that I would ever share that information. I didn't need the kid thinking I was some sort of emotional girl.

I had a reputation to uphold.

"Sammy?" I called out again, shrugging out of my jacked and tossing it over one of the kitchen chairs.

I glanced around the room, seeing no sign of the little squirt, my gaze tacking instantly to the closed bathroom door as I heard the water running behind it.

The shower.

What was he doing in the shower at three in the afternoon?

I walked up to the door and rapped my knuckles against it a couple times.

"Sam!"

"Just a minute!" He shouted out over the running water.

A verbal confirmation was all I had been searching for so I stretched out on the couch and flicked the television on. School was over, Dad was out on a hunt for the next couple days, I had nothing better to do than vedge out in front of the TV for the rest of the night.

Sam took his time in the bathroom, which was a little strange, but there was no rushing that kid.

Even at his young age he was already as stubborn as a mule...or worse, a Winchester.

When my little brother did finally vacate the bathroom he had his biggest sweater on with the hood pulled over his head, covering not only his presumably wet hair, but the majority of his face as well.

I watched as the young boy shuffled over to his bed, staring down at his sock clad feet the entire way.

"You cold?" I asked, getting up and to check the thermostat.

It was April in Indiana, nice spring weather, but the kid was dressing like it was January in Michigan.

"No."

The reply was soft, but that wasn't what caught my attention. What caught my attention was the small catch I heard hidden in the quiet voice.

"What's wrong?" I questioned, my big brother instincts on hight alert as I approached the boy standing and staring absently down at the clothing bundled in his hands.

My gaze followed his.

"What's all over your shirt?" I asked, as I reached out to grab it.

Sam's hands tensed around the material for a short moment, before he sighed and released it.

"It's glue." He muttered miserably.

I examined the pieces of clothing, the jeans looked fine, but the long-sleeve shirt was indeed coded in dried glue.

"What'd you bathe in it? How'd you manage to get it all over?" I asked, flipping the shirt around before tossing it over in the corner with the other laundry I had yet to get to.

"It's not just on my shirt." Sam mumbled.

"Your pants looked fine. What else did you manage to get it on?" I inquired.

My little brother proceeded to examine his feet.

"Sam?" I asked, crouching down to try and get clear a look at his hidden face.

That's when I caught a glimpse of the split lip and swollen eye.

"What the hell?" I barked. My tone harsh, but touch gentle as I lightly grasped my little brother's chin and angled his face up so I could get a better view.

The split lip was no longer bleeding, but the blood had clot and formed a dark red slit on the thin pink lips. His left eye was red and puffy, it wasn't too swollen, but I could tell that in a few hours it would be several shades darker.

The rage boiled in my gut and began spreading through the rest of me like wild-fire. But I fought against it, not wanting to frighten the hurting kid before me.

"What happened Sammy?" I asked, calm filling my tone as I stared into the big sad eyes staring up at me.

I released my little brother's chin and knelt down in front of him.

God he was just so damn small.

Sam looked at me for a moment, our faces nearly level now, as he took a deep breath before pulling the hood off his head.

The kid's shaggy hair was clumped, it's normally brown colour tainted with a pasty coding.

So that's what he meant when he said it wasn't just on the shirt.

"Shit." I cursed, standing up to better analyze the disaster.

"I-I tried to get it out. It didn't work. No matter how much shampoo I use...it won't come out."

I deftly combed my fingers through the mess of hair, grimacing at the number of knots. No amount of shampoo was going to rid of the glue that had embedded itself into my little brother's long locks. His once soft hair was now course and hardened.

My anger rose as I surveyed the damage.

"Who did this to you?" I ground out, dropping back down in front of the small kid.

"I need names Sam. Now!" I wrapped my hands around his arms as I demanded an answer.

"It was the Collins brothers, Zack, Ian, and Matthew."

"Those little assholes." I spat. They had given Sam trouble before, teasing him about his clothes and his back-pack, stupid shit like that. The also happened to be older and bigger than my little brother.

"It was j-just a joke." He whispered, his bottom lip trembling.

"They covered you in glue, Sam. And then what they did to your face...this is not a fucking joke." I snapped, regretting my aggressive tone as my brother pulled back. I tightened my grip on his arms enough to keep him from moving away, but swallowed my fury as I posed another question.

"What happened?"

"It was an April Fools prank." Sam stated softly, the tremble in his voice sending spears through my chest.

"I was leaving school when they dumped their glue bottles all over me." He stuttered out, tears pooling in his hazel eyes before trailing slowly down his face.

"I t-tried to fight them off, but then they started hitting me...so I just ran."

My little brother was releasing small hiccupping sobs by the end of his story and I could do nothing but pull him into a hug. I ran my hand soothingly up his back, having to stop myself when I instinctively reached to slide my fingers through his hair. Sam hooked his chin over my shoulder, his thin arms locking around my neck as he cried.

Why my kid brother was always the target to bullies was something I would never understand.

Sure he was small, way too damn small for his own good, but he was the sweetest little boy on the damn planet.

Sam would never do anything to hurt anyone else. And yet with every new town came a new school with new douchebags that made my kid their victim.

And I was getting pretty freakin sick of it.

"It's okay Sammy. We'll fix it, alright? I promise buddy, we'll fix it. You're okay now." I promised, whispering softly into the kid's ear as his crying eventually began to taper off.

Once all I heard was the occasional sniffle, I pulled Sam back, wiping his leftover tears away with my thumbs as I looked into those damn puppy dog eyes.

I gave a reassuring smile and slid my hand around to the back of his neck, squeezing gently.

"Lucky for you, your big brother is a talented barber." I declared with a cocky smile.

"You can wash it out?" Sam asked, looking hopeful.

"No, sorry kiddo. That glue ain't coming out. But I can cut it."

My little brother looked distressed at the idea, but nodded his consent nonetheless.

"Trust me Sammy." I stated as I climbed to my feet and led the young boy towards the bathroom. Flipping the toilet seat down I instructed him to take a seat before grabbing the scissors out of the first aid kit.

I plastered a casual grin on my face as I began to snip away at Sam's glued hair, but inwardly I winched every time a clump of it hit the floor.

Sam had always had longer hair, it was as much of part of his personality as his soulful eyes and inquisitive nature. With every clip of the scissors I felt like I was taking away a part of my little brother.

Each time Sam, or bit down on his bottom lip, or swiped at his eyes, I thought of a new way to make those bastards pay.

"It's not funny."

Sam's quiet statement pulled me from my violent thoughts as I glanced down at him.

"What?" I asked, my eyes returning to the paste-covered hair, but my attention on Sam's words.

"Pranks...April Fools...it's supposed to be funny. But this isn't funny." He said, staring down at his fidgeting hands.

"You're right Sam. This wasn't funny."

I agreed softly, frowning as I snipped away a large chunk of my kid's mane.

"I hate April Fools." He muttered.

The hurt I could hear in his voice had me swallowing back a sudden lump in my throat.

I glanced down at my brother.

He was slumped on the toilet seat, his posture defeated, he was bruised and bloody, with tear-tracks still evident on his young face while he waited patiently for me to finish cutting away chunks of the hair that he loved.

My heart clenched at the sight.

"Me too Sammy, me too." I agreed softly.

I would like to say that I was able to work magic with the clippers...but that wasn't the case.

Even once all the glue was gone, Sam's hair was still a mess.

It stuck up in strange places and was uneven at the back, it looked as though the kid had taken scissors to it himself.

The only way I could have made it all perfectly even was if I had given him a buzz-cut, and I knew that was the last thing my little brother wanted.

"It'll grow back faster this way." I reassured as the young boy stood in front of the sink and frowned at his reflection.

"Your hair grows faster than those weeds out front Sammy, it'll be hanging in your face in no time."

That much was probably true. His hair always seemed to grow at a rapid fire pace and because I had managed to keep some of the length, uneven or not, it wouldn't take near as long to return to it's original shaggy style.

But Sam couldn't see that far ahead. He was ten years old, and all he knew was that at that moment, his hair was a disaster.

"What if we get you a hat? Like a baseball cap?" I questioned. He hadn't really worn any before, but at least it would cover the uneven parts until it all grew back in.

My little brother seemed to ponder the idea for a moment, before releasing a long sigh and nodding his head, deeming the plan to be an acceptable one.

We went out to the store that night and browsed through the collection of hats. I watched as Sam's gaze wondered over his options, noticing when his eyes lit up and tracing his line of sight to a black cap with a Batman symbol on it.

I reached for it, pulling the hood of Sam's sweater off his head and replacing it with the hat.

The dimply smile that was directed up at me immediately erased all thoughts of the price I had seen on the tag.

Some things were worth spending money on; and my little brother's smile was worth all the money in the world.

We spent the rest of the day forgetting.

Forgetting about asshole bullies, uneven hair, and stupid April Fools.

I walked Sam to school early the next day. So that when he pointed out the Collins boys to me, I had time to teach them a lesson before any teachers or parents came around.

It took some bruises, blood, and tears, but those little bastards learned exactly what happens when you mess with Sammy.

I skipped out of my last class early, lying about having a doctors appointment so I could go pick my little brother up.

Sam walked out of the school with his batman hat on and his head held high. He bounded toward me smiling so big it almost disguised his split lip and bruised eye.

Almost.

"Those boys give you any trouble today?" I asked as we began our walk back to the motel.

"Nope, they were too scared you'd beat them up again." Sam answered, pride in his voice.

"Good." I nodded.

Sam giggled in response, and I couldn't help but grin as I slung my arm across his thin shoulders.

"What if it happens next year?" He asked, his voice taking on a more solemn tone as he glanced up at me with a serious expression.

"No one is ever pranking you on April Fools ever again little brother." I declared earnestly.

Sam smiled and nodded his head, taking my word for what it was, a guarantee.

"In fact, the only one who is ever allowed to prank you at all, is me." I amended.

"Except on April Fools." The young boy said, staring at my face and waiting for me to agree.

"Except on April Fools." I promised, because the kid had every right to hate that damn day, and I wasn't going to do anything to make it any worse. Not now, or in the future.

Satisfied with my answer, a gleeful expression returned to my little brother's face.

There was nothing I wouldn't do for him.

No promises I wouldn't make.

No assholes I wouldn't beat up.

No money I wouldn't spend.

**Nothing** I wouldn't do for him.

Because my little brother meant everything to me.

It amazed me how this one shaggy haired, puppy dog eyed, kid could be my whole world.

But he was.

And I knew that he always would be.

No matter what.

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Note: Thanks for reading! Please review/comment if you have a moment! I'd really appreciate it! - Sam


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